Intercom
by Deirdre Nightshade
Summary: A strange, vague announcement comes over the ship's intercom ordering Chekov to the Captain's quarters. Kirk/Chekov, oneshot LEMON


"Chekov to Captain's quarters, please. Repeat, Chekov to Captain's quarter's."

The tinny voice rang out over the intercom. Chekov looked up.

"Vot?" he muttered to himself, getting out of his seat in the mess hall. Scotty laughed and patted Chekov's back.

"Vot? Vot's so funny?"

"Nothing, lad, nothing," he chuckled. Chekov made his way to the main hall, and walked down the empty hallway to the last door on the left. He knocked softly.

"Come in," Kirk said.

Chekov opened the door slowly.

"Don't be _scared_, Chekov, you're not in _trouble_," he said, half mockingly. The boy stepped into the room, and found Kirk lounging in the chair by his desk. He swiveled around and crossed his fingers. "Now, Chekov. I've realized that during battle you tend to blush. Could this be because you're... nervous?" Chekov backed against the wall, spluttering.

"I... er... I mean, I -" he stopped, flushing scarlet. Kirk stood up.

"Oh, Pavel," he murmured. "You know, normally I would lecture you about how a navigator should steel in the face of peril and all, but you're so adorable when you blush." Kirk stroked Chekov's cheek with the back of his hand.

"Keptin, keptin I-"

"Shhh, Pavel," Kirk pressed a finger to the boy's lips. He grasped one of Chekov's hands and kissed the inside of his wrist. He peered up at him, and smirked as he bit softly.

"Nnngh... Keptin, please, don't..." Chekov whispered.

"Why not? Give me one good reason." Kirk leaned forward, resting his forearm against the wall beside the ensign's head.

"I - I..."

"Exactly. Kiss me, Chekov."

"B-but sir, I -"

"That's an order." Kirk's words were harsh, but his tone was gentle. He closed what distance remained between them with a soft kiss. Chekov's eyes flew open. He clutched at the captain's shirt in surprise. Kirk pulled away.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

"Keptin... I..." Chekov's voice trailed off. He stared into Kirk's blue eyes, and twined his fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. Kirk smiled and pressed closer as he kissed Chekov again. Chekov pressed his hands to Kirk's chest.

"Keptin, vait! Please... I'm only sewenteen... I don't vant you to -"

"What, get in trouble?" Kirk laughed. "Chekov, I'm the captain. Anyone suggests anything, they get their asses off my ship. Just trust me." Kirk kissed what little of the boy's neck was left exposed by his uniform. He sucked lightly, and the young ensign squirmed. Chekov arched his back as the captain's cold fingers inched his shirt up his stomach. Kirk grasped the hem of the shirt and pulled it roughly over Chekov's head. He kissed down to the boy's collar bone and began a slow trail of kisses down his chest, catching skin between his teeth as he went.

"Ah... keptin, vat - ghh - vat are you -"

"Shhh, Chekov," Kirk murmured, drawing circles on the ensign's back with his fingernail. "Just relax." Kirk nipped at Chekov's navel and slipped his fingers under the waistband of his pants. He slid the thin fabric down the boy's hips, relishing in the shiver that ran down his spine. He licked Chekov's delicate hip bones and peeled the tight white shorts from his flushed skin. Chekov was suddenly enveloped in wet, smothering warmth.

"Ahn! Keptin... I... bo zhe moy..." he whispered. More moans escaped his lips as Kirk worked, his mouth hot and clinging and molding itself to the shape of the young ensign's flesh. Chekov couldn't see Kirk's hands, but he could feel them scratching at his lower back, mirroring the movements of his tongue. God, Kirk's tongue... smooth and warm and - oh! - he could feel everything, he became still more sensitive whenever Kirk touched him... ah!.. his hips jerked involuntarily, Kirk's throat did something - nnnnnhhhh...

Chekov shuddered violently, his body pulsing gently. Kirk's mouth was filled with thick, warm, liquid. The captain swallowed, and straightened up to kiss the ensign sweetly. The boy shivered.

"Shh, Pavel. Shhh," Kirk whispered, guiding him to his bed. He peeled off the remainder of Chekov's clothes and laid him down, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

"Shhh. Sleep," Kirk murmured. He kissed Chekov's forehead once and left quietly to monitor the bridge.


End file.
